


Next Exit

by RhetoricFemme



Series: Scenic World AU [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Beautiful twenty-somethings just trying to navigate life, F/F, Happy Birthday Danielle!, Kind of Domestic?, Meet-Cute, Scenic World AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14122230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricFemme/pseuds/RhetoricFemme
Summary: It takes months to properly plan a wedding, but only a few days to meet and get comfortable with the wedding party.When Sasha's best friend brings a barrage of guests home with him, the last thing Sasha anticipates is a spark to ignite between herself and a new acquaintance.





	Next Exit

**Author's Note:**

> This little story is for my sweet friend Danielle on her birthday. I hope you enjoy the first part of Sasha and Mikasa's getting to know one another, and more than that I hope you've had the happiest of birthdays! <3

It can oftentimes be difficult to pinpoint those turnaround moments. The ones where you find yourself so invested in the happiness of others, only to have someone or something come along and entirely upend your world.

How fortunate then, when some of those grandiose moments occur all at once. A person come out of nowhere; beautiful inside and out to the point you cannot imagine she could be meant for you. And yet here she is, one of a barrage of visitors with whom to celebrate your best friend’s impending marriage.

Bringing with her all of the mystery, kindness and class needed to salvage old vestiges of curiosity.

The long ignored dregs of Sasha’s desire for intimate love.

But as it turns out, Sasha is too busy to notice all of that at the moment. She’s elbow-deep in breakfast dishes after Marco’s mother had outdone herself after only the second day of having so many visitors.

How could she not insist on being the help?

And so it came to pass that Sasha had kicked Maureen Bodt out of her own kitchen. Forced Marco and Jean to round up the Kirschstein family and their guests for a tour of their expansive properties, with a promise to catch up later.

Sasha had grown up with the Bodt family. Spent as much time in their kitchen as she had beside her own mother where her family still lived right down the road. Country people either unwilling or unable to fully remove themselves from the liberation, beauty, and clarity they can’t seem to find anywhere other than the wilderness outside their front doors.

Marco, on the other hand, had found no qualms with moving down state; a far cry from his Upper Peninsula roots in Jinae. It’d served him well, considering he’d found a second place to call home, and had even found a decent man to fall in love with while living there.

The entire purpose of this weeklong trip was to map out locations and amenities for their wedding. To visit old friends and family, and to blend them with the new.

Sasha smiled. Like it or not, that boy couldn’t stay away from the sticks forever. She’d perhaps been the least surprised to find out that she’d be the maid of honor in a Bodt family wedding that was to take place right at the Bodt’s very own home.

The mere thought of it warmed her. The image of Marco happy and smiling making her exceedingly proud. It was nearly enough to make her forget about how thoroughly Marco had teased her the previous morning.

One by one guests had poured out of vehicles. Jean’s brothers, whom she’d already had the pleasure of meeting, along with their significant others. How cute, she couldn’t help but think, that the blond crew cut had ended up with a spunky buzz cut of a man. The only girl among them seemed the genuine article of the words _petite_ and _intimidating,_ as she kept close stride with Jean’s eldest brother, who was nearly twice her size.

Arriving moments after the Kirschsteins came one more car, this one containing Jean’s closest friend outside of his family, who at Marco’s insistence had brought _his_ family. A demure looking blond climbed from out of the back, soon followed by what Sasha couldn’t help but think was a woman well out of all of their leagues.

Alabaster skin and cropped, dark hair with eyes to match. Tall and lithe, she extended her arm with insistence she be handed luggage, and there was no ignoring the soft definition of well worked muscles that Sasha assumed ran her entire body over.

And then there was Marco. Having climbed out of his own car, eager to join Sasha where she stood on the Bodt’s wraparound porch. He’d been smiling at her, his tongue peeking obnoxiously from the corner of his mouth. How had Marco put it? What had he asked while watching Jean help Eren unload luggage for his family?

Oh, yes. He’d asked if the look of intrigue on Sasha’s face had anything to do with the fast-rising lady boner she’d developed for Mikasa.

Her name was Mikasa.

He’d laughed, kissing Sasha’s cheek when she’d insisted that she might not be able to hide anything from him, but that she could quite easily hide Marco’s body from any search party that came looking for him if he kept it up.

At any rate, looking good was a far cry from being good. This much, Sasha knew.

She’d taken no offense when the relationship she’d nurtured throughout most of college eventually came to an end. Sasha intent on returning to Jinae, and him wanting to cut ties peacefully and see the world. Bittersweet as it’d been, no one had walked away surprised.

There’d been no ill will when after two summers of fooling around with a fellow camp counselor—soft thighs and bitten lips after lights out—Sasha had told her lover she needed promises that neither woman was presently able to offer the other.

The takeaway had been countless nights worth remembering, and a sturdier sense of self which Sasha knew she’d always be able to rely on.

And so she moved forward, uninhibited by what-ifs and introspections she simply didn’t have time for. Mere weeks remained before she’d be back in her classroom, surrounded by the familiar faces of the special education children she loved to see each and every day. In the meantime, there was a wedding to help plan, land to clear, as well as a bit of—

“Scooch.”

She’s startled by the fact that anyone possesses the stealth required to sneak up on her, and less by the velvet-sweet voice that accompanies the person standing beside her. Warm grey eyes and upturned peach lips.

Graceful hands are plucking a dish out of Sasha’s hands before she even realizes it, before she can protest that she’s got it, and before Sasha knows it that perfect voice is speaking again.

“You’re not doing all of these alone.”

One dish toweled off, Mikasa reaches for another, her mouth fixed matter-of-factly when Sasha gives a lilt of a giggle.

“It’s fine. I’m—“

“—good?” Mikasa finishes her sentence for her, reaching into the dish water, discreet in the way she steps into Sasha’s space. “I’m sure. But still. I insist.”

“Oh. You insist?”

A small noise of confirmation. A pert nod. “I do.”

Sasha only gives a slight exaggeration of movement when she tilts her head off to the side, making no effort to disguise the manner in which she sizes up Mikasa.

“Alright.” Wet fingertips mingle as Sasha hands off another plate. “I wash, you dry.”

Mikasa grew up in Shiganshina, she learns. At twenty-five years old, she’s fond of the place she was raised, but wouldn’t be surprised to find herself becoming restless in a few years’ time. She makes no secret of the fact that she can occasionally make her own life too hard.

Mikasa’s the associate director for a battered women’s shelter, and whether her days are long by necessity or volition she can no longer tell. She’s strong in both mind and body and she’s got it. She sighs.

“You spend your entire life thinking you know what you’ll be doing.” Mikasa leans her elbows against the kitchen counter, her gaze bouncing between Sasha and the tiled floor. “You think you know how it’s going to be, but you’re still never prepared for everything to be this emotionally draining.”

Sasha meets her eyes, making a noise in confirmation. “Tell me about it. Some days it feels like that’s the point, doesn’t? Finding new ways to make life exhausting.”

This, however. This impromptu discussion, personal meet-and-greet, or whatever they might call it. It isn’t draining whatsoever. Sasha could be wrong, but she chalks it up to the night before, where Eren had practically scolded Mikasa around their impressive blaze of a bonfire.

 _“You’re not here to cater to anyone, Kasa.”_ He’d eyed her with and emotion and intensity that promised stories were hiding behind it. _“Just enjoy yourself.”_

Sasha had studied her; the fire reflecting brilliantly off Mikasa’s perfect skin as she’d obliged her brother, promising to start by stealing the beer that had nearly made it to Eren’s lips. Neither woman had bothered to look away when Sasha had been caught staring at her.

There was no doubt in Sasha’s mind that Mikasa was fire in and of herself.

Here they stand now. Day Two of this weeklong stay, reveling in some silent understanding while four wheelers sound off somewhere in the distance.

“Well.” Sasha breathes, her voice full of suggestion and a hidden smile. “It’s only going to get hotter as the day goes on, and I’m better at kicking up a breeze on a four-wheeler than all of those boys combined.”

Another moment passes between them, the silence taking on the guise of a contract being written.

Pushing off the counter, Mikasa grants Sasha the smallest of smiles, and nods.

“Then why don’t you show me?”


End file.
